Hard Road Ahead
by EmilyDawn94
Summary: Sirius survives the attack at the Ministry. Now his name is cleared and he obtains custody of his godson. Together, they walk the road of what Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts will bring.
1. Laying It All Bare

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter, unfortunately, does not belong to me.

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><p><strong>Chapter One: <strong>Laying It All Bare

Before he was imprisoned in Azkaban, Sirius Orion Black had been an infamous ladies man; one night stands were the epitome of his existence. Now, at thirty-five, he is one of the only people ever to have escaped Azkaban and now, after three years on the run, his name had finally been cleared.

Looking back at the events of the last month Sirius couldn't believe just how close it had all come. If it hadn't been for Remus' quick thinking he would have surely died. The minute he had been stunned, Remus had stopped dueling to send a body-bind at him, stopping his fall, causing him to bounce off the arch and onto the dais. Once he was safe, or as safe as one could be in the midst of a battle, he had been revived, ready to rejoin the fight.

It had come even closer for Harry.

Convinced that Sirius was dead, Harry had ran off after Bellatrix Lestrange intent on avenging his godfather only to find himself possessed by Voldemort. It had been his intense grief that had expelled Voldemort from his body.

Even now Harry was blaming himself, but Sirius wasn't. If it hadn't been for Harry, his name would never have been cleared. Fudge, the incompetent moron that he was, had arrived as Sirius resumed his duel with Bellatrix. The Minister for Magic, or former Minister for Magic as he was now known as, had to admit to two things that night; one, Voldemort had, indeed, returned, proving that Harry and Dumbledore had, in fact, been telling the truth for the past year; two, Sirius as innocent.

Now Sirius was pacing the living room awaiting Harry's arrival.

The first thing he had demanded once he had been declared innocent was custody of his godson. Only Dumbledore had objected. The old coot had insisted Harry stay in Surrey, muttering something about blood wards. He had, Sirius thought, put up a good fight, but so had he.

Eventually they came to a compromise.

Harry was to spend the first two weeks of the summer holidays in Privet Drive, much to his chagrin, to ensure the blood wards. Once the two weeks were over he would come to Hogsmeade and live, as he should have done all along, with his godfather.

Dumbledore had warned Sirius that this arrangement would have to continue the next year too, but Sirius, ever the Marauder, had conveniently misheard him.

With the compensation the Ministry had provided for his wrongful imprisonment he had been able to afford a house in the heart of Hogsmeade village. His reasoning for buying a house in that particular wizarding village was so Harry visit on the approved Hogsmeade weekends. They had been apart for twelve years - they had plenty to catch up on.

The house had three bedrooms; one for each Harry, Sirius, and Remus, should he agree to stay. Sirius had worked tirelessly over the last three weeks transforming Harry's bedroom. The walls had been painted in the red and gold Gryffindor colours, several pictures of Lily and James graced the walls. Sirius wanted the first thing Harry saw before going to bed and waking up to be his parents. It wasn't much but he hoped Harry would love it.

Sirius was feeling restless as he glanced at the clock. It was a few minutes past three. Harry was late. Panic began to overwhelm him as his thoughts began running errantly through his mind. Where was he? Was he okay? Had something happened?

_Breathe,_ he reminded himself and took a deep breath. _They're probably held up; there's no need to overreact. Remus is with him. He'll be fine._

He sighed. Merlin, he was fussing more than Molly.

Glancing at the clock once again, Sirius almost missed the door swing open, revealing Harry and Remus laden with Harry's trunk, bag, and broomstick. Dropping the items on the ground, Harry ran up to Sirius and was immediately pulled into a tight, bone-crushing hug that could have possibly broken his ribs.

They could never have enough moments like that, like godfather and godson.

"Everything all right, Padfoot? You look worried."

Sirius snapped his head up to see Remus smirking at him. The panic was plastered all over his face.

"Well, I'm not," he said in a voice that betrayed him. Turning to his godson, smiling broadly, he said, "What are you waiting for? Go and see your new room. It's the first on your right," he called after Harry as he disappeared from view up the stairs, dragging his trunk, grunting as he did so.

Sirius turned back to Remus, who was still smirking at him. "What?" he demanded with a playful huff.

"Nothing," said the bemused werewolf, walking into the living room and flopped onto the couch.

"Everything go all right then?" Sirius asked, trying to sound nochalant about it as he took out a bottle of Firewhiskey and two glasses.

"His aunt and uncle are certainly... _something_," Remus replied heavily, downing the glass of Firewhiskey that had been placed in front of him. Usually he didn't drink but after that encounter with Harry's relations, he definitely needed it.

Sirius narrowed his eyes, not liking the tone Remus had used. "What did they do?"

He had heard stories from Lily about how unpleasant her sister and her husband could be, and he knew, before Lily's death, there had been no love lost between the sisters no matter how much Lily had tried reaching out to her.

It reminded him of his own relationship with his late brother, Regulus.

"His uncle's last words before we left were: '_I want you and your abnormality out of this house this instant_!'"

"Abnormality? He can't be serious."

"Unfortunately, I think he was," Remus replied wearily, rubbing his eyes.

Pacing once again, Sirius asked, "What did Harry do?" The one thing he had learnt about his godson, especially in light of recent events, was how rash he could be, not unlike himself.

"He shrugged it off like it was a regular occurrence." Remus poured himself another glass of Firewhiskey. "I know Harry hasn't had the best childhood and maybe I'm reading too much into it but I get the feeling there's more going on."

"I'll have a word with Harry at dinner," said Sirius, stopping his pacing and flopping into the vacant seat next to Remus. "Fancy joining us?"

Remus shook his head. "I'd love to but I can't. Albus wans me back at Headquarters to update him on the werewolf situation." Remus checked his watch, sighing. "In fact, I have to leave now."

"See you soon?"

"Of course." Remus looked to his oldest friend and smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, Padfoot, you'll be fine. Harry loves you."

"I don't want to ruin this, Moony," admitted the animagus, shifting uncomfortably as he stood.

"Harry has a hard road ahead of him, Sirius, that I won't deny. He's going to need all the love and support he can get, as corny as that sounds, and fortunately for him, you can provide that. There's no doubt in my mind how much that kid cares for you - he went to the Ministry intent on saving you last month, didn't he? In all the times that I've seen him, I have never seen him as comfortable with anyone as he is around you."

Sirius smiled appreciatively. "Thanks, Moony. I really needed to hear that."

"I always was the wise one."

After a quick hug and handshake, Remus disappeared through the door and into the village leaving Sirius gazing upwards, a wide smile playing on his lips. He climbed the stairs, stopping outside Harry's new bedroom. Taking a deep breath, he knocked twice.

"Come in," came Harry's voice.

Sirius entered to find Harry adding the finish touches to his new room. The older man smiled as Harry placed a framed picture of James and Lily dancing together on his bedside cabinet. His trunk was lying open in front of his four-poster bed. When decorating Harry's room, Sirius had dissolved into a panic, wondering what his godson would want or need. It had been Remus' suggestion that he decorate it similar to his dorm at Hogwarts to feel more comfortable.

"Do you like it?" Sirius asked quietly, sitting down on Harry's new bed.

Harry nodded. "It's great, Sirius. Thanks."

"Anytime, kiddo." Sirius smiled. So far, so good. "You hungry? I thought we could go to the Three Broomsticks for dinner tonight. I'm not much of a cook."

"Dinner at the Three Broomsticks sounds great."

"I'll leave you to finish unpacking." Sirius stood up to leave but paused at the door. "I'm - er - really glad you're here, Harry."

"Me too."

At six that evening, the pair of them made their way into the hot summers evening and walked to the Three Broomsticks. As they walked through the village several heads turned in their direction, their features mixed with fear and interest.

Sirius sighed loudly; he should be used to this by now.

Since his name had been cleared, everyone had been wanting to get a glimpse of him. Whispers followed him wherever he went, but he wasn't surprised - all people wanted was gossip, and here he was, a ready made topic. Not everyone was convinced of his innocence but it didn't bother him. People could say what they wanted about him, whether it was true or not. As long as the people he cared most about knew of his innocence, especially Harry, he didn't care what a bunch of old ladies had to say about him. There was also the issue of Harry; the man who had supposedly betrayed his parents to Voldemort now had custody of the Boy-Who-Lived. Though Sirius held his head high, ignoring what anyone had to throw at him, Harry, however did not.

"If you've got a problem, why don't you come and tell us rather than whisper about us behind our backs!" he burst out angrily at a stunned middle-aged woman, who hadn't bothered to keep her voice down as she murmured her concerns to her friend.

"We've only got your best interests at heart, dear," she replied calmly, staring deeply into Harry's face as though checking him for injuries.

"Why is that?" Harry demanded coldly. "Is it because I'm fifteen or because I'm the supposed _Chosen One_?"

Sirius placed a hand on his godson's shoulder, both comforting and restraining him, and tried pulling him backwards. Harry didn't need this.

"Don't," he whispered gently into his ear. "They're a bunch of gossips with nothing better to do."

"It makes me so angry," Harry huffed, stalking away from the woman with Sirius at his heels. "Why can't they leave us alone? For once I've gotten something good in my life and they're trying to ruin it. Do I have to save the wizarding world and be unhappy at the same time?"

Without thinking about the many eyes fixed on them, Sirius pulled Harry into a hug. It hurt him to realise that people only cared about Harry because of the rumours - albeit true rumours - circulating since the battle in the Department of Mysteries. To the wizarding world Harry is just a pawn to be played; an expendable piece of the game, as long as he can kill Voldemort first. Didn't they realise that Harry was still just a boy; a fifteen-year-old boy? He doesn't need the prophecy hanging over his head wherever he goes.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Sirius apologised as they parted. "Do you still want to eat out or would you rather go back home?"

"We're staying," Harry declared firmly. "We're not going to hide because people want to talk. I've dealt with it for the last six years of my life. Besides, it will prove to people that you're not locking me up or starving me."

Laughing weakly, Sirius put an arm around his godson and walked together into the packed pub.

Harry was fuming as they walked through the door, though he tried not to let it show. How could someone who didn't even know him, have his best interests at heart? If they did then they ought to realise that Sirius was the best thing to happen to him. If Sirius had died back in the Ministry, Harry had no idea what he would do, especially knowing that it was his fault. Sirius was the closest thing to a father he had. Even now he still hadn't forgiven himself for walking into the trap. If he had worked harder on his Occlumency lessons, it never would have happened. Sirius could have died... Hermione could have died... they all could have died and it would have been his fault.

"Are you okay?" Sirius' voice broke through his musings.

Harry turned to stare at his godfather. Sirius' brow was furrowed in concern.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. I was just thinking, that's all."

"Ignore them, Harry," Sirius murmured quietly, shooting him a reassuring smile. "Just ignore them. It doesn't matter what they or what they do because I have legal custody of you and nobody, not one person, is going to take you away from me. Stop worrying, okay?"

"I can't help it, Sirius. I - I don't want anyone to ruin this for us. This is everything I've always wanted - a family. What if someone accuses you of abusing me, of starving me and locking me in a cupboard under the stairs? The Ministry could take me away from you then, and I - I -"

Sirius placed both hands on either side of Harry's face, effectively silencing him apart from his heavy breathing, which was coming harder and faster.

"Take a deep breath," his godfather instructed calmly.

Harry sucked in a great breath and exhaled slowly. Immediately he felt better.

"Good. Now, listen to me carefully. Are you listening?" Harry nodded with difficulty since his godfather still had his hands cupping his face. "No one is taking you away. Not ever. We're a family and we're here to stay. If I get accused then Dumbledore can help us. Besides, where did you get such an absurd idea from - cupboards under the stairs? Nobody can believe a child being forced into something as cruel as that."

Sirius laughed at how ludicrous it sounded and he half expected Harry to join in but he never did. Instead, Harry avoided his godfather's gaze and nervously began to fumble with the hem of his sleeve.

"You're nervous," Sirius stated, narrowing his eyes. "What's the matter?"

"I - I... nothing."

"Don't lie to me, Harry. Something has gotten you nervous and I want to know what. Has someone said something?" The older man turned sharply in his seat, glaring at everyone who met his eyes.

Harry's breathing increased again.

"No," he gasped out. "No one has said anything. I - I just -" he faltered, turning his eyes downcast.

"Harry, you can tell me anything, you know that. Trust me, please."

"I do."

"Then tell me what's bothering you."

Reverting back to stare at Sirius, he saw the steely determination on his godfather's face. Why was this so difficult? It's only Sirius. His godfather. The one adult he knew he could trust beyond compare. Sirius was the closest thing to both a father and a brother to him. He was family. Ron and Hermione knew that he lived in a cupboard - he had told them during the summer of second year after Ron and his twin brothers had rescued him from the clutches of his relatives. There was no way he would have been able to keep the true extent of what the Dursleys had done from them when they had seen for themselves the bars on his windows.

So why was it so difficult to tell Sirius?

"Harry?"

Taking another deep, steadying breath, Harry gazed deeply into his godfather's eyes and said, "Before I received my Hogwarts letter, I was - I was made to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs."

Sirius - in Harry's opinion - took this news rather calmly. However, anger pulsated through the older man's veins as his godson's words sunk in. A cupboard under the stairs! A cupboard! Harry, his godson, James and Lily's son, had to endure ten years of sleeping in a cupboard. If they could do that then what else had occurred under the roof of Number Four, Privet Drive.

"Did - did they ever, you know, hit you?"

There was a great pause that lasted for one heartbeat, though it seemed longer to Sirius, before Harry answered.

"Not in the sense that you're thinking of. I had an occasional slap but that was it."

"How hard were these slaps?"

"Not very."

"Did they ever use a belt or a shoe or anything other than their hands?"

"No."

Sirius leaned back against his chair, deep in thought. His godson had been forced to sleep in a cupboard _and _had been slapped around. Whether it was occasional or not or hard or not, no child, especially not Harry, deserved that. They were meant to be family and yet they had treated him appallingly.

"Tell me what you're thinking."

"I - I don't know."

"You know I'd never hurt you, right?"

Harry nodded. Of course he knew that. He never considered the notion that Sirius would ever lay a finger on him. There was something between the pair of them that Harry had never known from the Dursleys - love.

Family love.

"You don't need to treat me like I'm made of glass either, Sirius. I was not abused. I was simply unloved. The Dursleys never wanted me and, truth be told, I was never thrilled about their company either. It hasn't been easy but I've got you now. I have Ron and Hermione and all of the Weasleys. I'm okay, really, I am."

A faint smile broke out on the older man's face, but his eyes were full of sadness. "I know you are. You're truly incredible, you know that, Harry James?"

"I've been told."

With a wink, Sirius said, "Now we've gotten the intense emotional stuff out of the way, what do you fancy to eat?"

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><p><strong>AN: **Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. The beginning chapter is always - to me - the hardest since it's the one that's going to draw people in. I hope I did it all right. Review, please?


	2. Confessions and Tasks

Sorry I haven't updated in a long time. Unfortunately, my six-year-old nephew passed away last month. He had been diagnosed with Leukemia when he was four, but it turned terminal last year. We knew it was coming but it didn't stop it from hurting when it happened. Because of this, I didn't feel like writing anything, and it's also partly the reason why this chapter sucks. I'm not pleased with the way this chapter is, and I may revise it at a later date but it needed to be updated. If you're going to review, then please go easy on me. Thanks everyone.

**Disclaimer: **I still haven't been given the rights to Harry Potter. Though, I did ask for Christmas and my birthday, but having eight children means my parents don't have millions - or billions - of pounds to spare. In fact, they seem :)

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: <strong>Confessions and Tasks.

Sirius was sitting alone in the living room, staring intently into the crackling fire, a half-empty glass of Firewhiskey in his hand. It was past midnight and he had yet to tire, unlike his almost sixteen-year-old godson, who had disappeared upstairs an hour previously. Perhaps it was his mind contemplating everything Harry had informed him of that was keeping him awake. No matter how hard he tired to refrain from thinking about it, he couldn't.

Cupboards under the stairs. Periods of starvation. Bars on windows. Occasional slaps. This was all abuse in his mind, and if anyone knew about abuse it would be Sirius Black.

How could anyone lay a finger on his godson? In fact, how could anyone do that to any child? Abuse was abuse, and no one should ever have to endure.

Yet Harry had.

Sirius wanted to scream. This was his fault. Harry would still have his parents had he not failed to see the signs that there was a traitor amongst them. Pettigrew's animagus form was a rat for Merlin's sake. How much more obvious could it have been?

Despite what Molly said, there was no doubt within Sirius' mind that the kid lying asleep was his godson. His Harry. Not James, no matter how alike they looked. There was too much Lily inside Harry for him _not _to realise the difference, and it was something that he would never change. He was just glad to have Harry now after so many years apart, but he would forever hate the reasons that brought them together in the first place.

Times had been much simpler back then. They had been happy. Then, in the blink of an eye, everything had changed.

Peter had betrayed them; James and Lily died; he was sentenced to Azkaban for crimes he didn't commit, leaving Harry to suffer years of neglect, and Remus to suffer years of hardship alone.

_I miss you, Prongs._

Almost fifteen years to the day his best friend died with not a day going by where neither James or Lily failed to appear in his thoughts.

_If only you could see Harry now. I know you'd both be proud of the man he's become._

Sirius knew they would be extremely proud. He was proud, too. Fifteen-years-old and he's already endured more than most wizards would in a lifetime. By now, most would have gone mad, but not Harry. He was living proof of the saying, 'what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger'. There was no doubt in his mind that Harry will have the power, the strength, to defeat Voldemort for good. The so called 'Lord' couldn't even kill him as a baby, as an adult it would be near to impossible.

Downing the glass of Firewhiskey in one, Sirius grimaced as it burned his throat - a sensation he thought he would be used to by now - and got to his feet, extinguishing the fire as he went.

He had reached the fifth step when a bloodcurdling scream rang out, stopping him dead in his tracks as his heart hammered erratically inside his chest.

_Harry!_

Taking two steps at a time, Sirius finally found himself on the top landing outside Harry's bedroom. Another scream sounded at the same moment Sirius burst through the closed door. Immediately his eyes found Harry writhing around on hid bed, his blankets a crumpled heap on the floor. His face was pale causing the scar on his forehead to stand out drastically; his face was scrunched together in pain. In one fluid motion, Sirius was crouched down next to Harry's side and was trying to shake him awake.

"Harry," he called, his voice sounding uneven. "Harry, wake up. You're all right. It's just a nightmare, Harry. Wake up."

Harry remained irresponsive to his godfather's attempts. Sirius watched as his eyeballs rolled wildly behind closed lids, whimpering to whatever it was he was seeing.

"Harry!" Sirius called louder, shaking him rougher that time.

A moment later, Harry's eyes snapped open, gasping loudly as he bolted upright. Sirius grabbed him around the waist to prevent him from toppling out of the bed.

"Easy there, Harry. Take a slow, deep breath."

The pair sat in silence for a minute or two, listening to the sound of Harry's loud, ragged breathing that he was attempting to get under control.

"Are you all right?" Sirius finally asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

Harry nodded. "I - I'm fine. Lucius Malfoy, on the other hand, is not."

"What happened?"

"Cruciatus Curse. I - I didn't hear everything but he's not happy. Voldemort is not happy, Sirius." Harry stopped to take a deep breath.

Sirius gazed at his godson to see unmistakable fear present.

"He's ordering someone to kill Dumbledore."

Sirius blinked. Dumbledore, like Harry, was on top of Voldemort's 'to kill' list, they all knew that. But he had never ordered the man's death before. Voldemort was afraid of him. He knew from experience that Dumbledore would always best him in a duel.

Voldemort usually killed the most skilled or valuable once he was positive there was no possible way to sway them onto his side. Like James and Lily; Marleen and Dorcas. Voldemort had killed them all personally just as he would Harry... but not Dumbledore. To Sirius that made no sense. He imagined Voldemort would revel in the murder of Albus Dumbledore, the man whom he was said to fear.

However, there would be time to worry about that later. For now, Sirius had to take care of his godson, who was trembling under his touch.

Being an Auror and an Order member in the height of the first war, it wasn't rare to see the Cruciatus Curse performed first hand. Neither was feeling the effects. Having his teenaged godson actually seeing the curse performed caused his skin to crawl. There were certain things no one should ever have to watch, and that was one of them.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine."

One look at Harry told Sirius that his godson was not fine. Nowhere near, in fact. His hands were trembling despite how hard he tried to hide it; his face was covered in a thick layer of cold sweat and, if it were possible, he was looking paler.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Let's try this again. How are you feeling?"

"Really, I'm fine." Harry attempted a reassuring smile. "I'm tired but it's late."

"Do you want to go back to sleep?"

Harry shook his head frantically. "Not - not yet," he answered hoarsely.

"Okay," Sirius murmured. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Maybe in the morning."

Harry began to sway despite the fact he was sitting on his bed.

Taking his hands from around Harry's waist, Sirius placed his palm in the centre of his godson's chest, pushing him down into a vertical position.

"Lie down. You'll feel better."

Harry doubted that but didn't protest. These visions did take a lot out of him, real or not, and that was Harry's problem. Was this vision real? Or was it yet another one planted inside his mind to lure him out and kill him? To kill someone he loved? If there had been one thing he had learned in the last month, it would be not to trust his mind. It wasn't safe. He wasn't safe. No one was safe around him. No matter where he was, or who he was with, they would be in danger for as long as Voldemort was around. For as long as it would take for him to fulfill the prophecy.

"What's on your mind?" Sirius' voice interrupted his thoughts.

Harry took a breath. "Was it real? Or was it planted inside my mind to lure me out into the open to kill me, or kill someone I care about?" Harry was surprised at how hysterical he sounded.

"Harry..."

"No! It's happened before, Sirius! You almost died last time and it would have been my fault. No, Sirius, it would have been my fault and mine alone. I could have gotten everyone killed because I was too incompetent to learn how to close my mind. I should have tried harder, we all know that. I - I don't know what I would have done had you died. I probably never would have forgiven myself, Sirius. I still haven't. I'm meant to protect everyone, to save the world, and I've failed already before I've even had a proper chance -"

Sirius had enough of listening to Harry talk himself into a panic attack. He placed a hand over his godson's mouth to silence him.

"Now you're silent I can talk." Sirius smiled faintly at the wreck that was Harry. "It would _not _have been your fault if I had died, it would have been my own fault for letting my guard down whilst I goaded her. I've been trained by some of the best, Harry. I should have known better than to let my own personal vendetta against Bellatrix get in the way of saving you. I _never _want to hear you blame yourself again, do you hear me?"

With his godfather's hand still clamped to his mouth, Harry couldn't answer. He nodded his head, though it didn't decrease the feelings of guilt washing over him.

"Good. We all make our own choices, Harry. I made mine that night to save you and I wouldn't change it for a thing. You're the most important person in my life. I would willingly give my own life for yours. Believe me when I say that."

Tears sprung inside Harry's eyes. He closed them before any could spill. Though the gesture in itself was a loving one, Harry didn't want it to happen, he never did. His parents died for him. This war was centred around him - Harry. Voldemort wanted him dead, no one else, except Dumbledore now, so it seemed. Though he's going to try and bring Voldemort down with him, Harry wasn't sure he was going to survive this war. He knew it was inevitable that those closest to him were going to join but how many were going to survive it? Because of him.

Sirius nudged him in the shoulder; eyebrows drawn together in concern.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He paused for a beat. "What are we going to do about Dumbledore?"

"You're going to go back to sleep and get some rest now. Then, in the morning we'll head up to Hogwarts, together, and inform Dumbledore about your dream."

Harry nodded, yawning widely.

"I want you to take a Dreamless Sleep Potion," Sirius told him. "I want you to get at least a small amount of sleep if possible."

"Okay," Harry agreed.

Rather than leaving Harry to get the potion, Sirius pulled out his wand and said, "Accio Dreamless Sleep Potion."

Not a second later did a clear vial filled to the top with a purple potion come flying into Harry's bedroom, caught neatly in hand by Sirius, who uncorked it and handed to him. Harry grimaced as he drank it in one gulp. He had taken it once before - after the third task - and yet it hadn't tasted as vile as it did now. Perhaps it had been the aftermath of watching Cedric die... watching Voldemort's rebirth, that he didn't pay much mind to the taste of a single potion. Now, however, it was revolting. Harry looked up, with drooping eyes, to see his godfather smirking at him.

"Go to sleep now, Harry," he murmured, pulling the covers over Harry's chest.

Sirius watched as a faint smile formed on his godson's lips before his eyes shut tight and his breathing evened out into the steady rhythm of sleep.

It was a comfort to Sirius knowing that Harry would be undisturbed in the rest of his sleep. In the morning they would take a trip up to Hogwarts and alert Dumbledore to Voldemort's, relatively, new plan.

With a fleeting glance towards his slumbering godson, Sirius quietly shut the door and headed for his own bedroom.

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><p>Harry awoke the next morning feeling refreshed. It had been one of the best night's sleep he'd had in a few weeks. Most nights he would dream of what occured in the Department of Mysteries. He knew his godfather was all right but Harry still couldn't get the image of seeing Sirius hit with the spell, only in his dreams Remus didn't get to him in time.<p>

Pushing those thoughts aside (his godfather was downstairs, or knowing Sirius, still asleep, but very much alive) Harry rolled onto his stomach and lifted his head to check the alarm clock sitting on his bedside cabinet. It was ten past nine. Groaning, Harry stretched before dragging himself out of bed.

He was surprised to meet Sirius, fully-dressed, in the kitchen. A steaming mug was sitting in front of him.

"Good morning," Sirius greeted cheerfully.

"Morning."

"How are you feeling this morning?"

Harry sat in the chair opposite his godfather. "I'm fine. The potion helped."

Sirius' gaze lingered on his face as though trying to condradict Harry's words. There was colour back on Harry's face much to Sirius' pleasure. Being the cool godfather was one thing but being a parent was another. Last night he even considered having Madam Pomfrey giving him the once over but thought better of it. He didn't think Harry would appreciate him dragging him to see the Hogwarts matron because he had a nightmare.

This was going to be a long summer.

"Up for a trip to Hogwarts then? If we go early we can get the house-elves to feed us. There's nothing better than a Hogwarts feast." Sirius sighed wistfully. Hogwarts had been some of the best days of his life.

Harry grinned. "Sure. Give me five minutes to get changed."

"Hurry up. I don't know about you but I'm starved."

"When are you not?" teased Harry, mirth twinkling in his eyes. "You eat more than Ron and that's saying something."

Last night Harry was shocked to see his godfather managing to keep down a steak dinner, four slices of Harry's favourite treacle tart and several bottles of butterbeer while Harry could only manage his steak and kindey pie and a single slice of tart. Then again, thought Harry, Sirius needed the food. Azkaban had rendered the man to nothing but skin and bones. The year after his escape he lived on rats in order to be closer to Harry. It was only in the last year whilst couped up inside Grimmauld Place that Sirius had been given decent meals. Now he was free, Harry wouldn't have to worry about that.

Five minutes later, a fully-dressed Harry and Sirius standing besides the green flames dancing inside the fire. They were to floo to Hogwarts.

Sirius was about to offer the floo poweder to Harry when he began to frown. "Have you ever travelled by floo before?"

"Yeah, I - er - well, I sort of got lost during my first time... that's a story for another time, though."

"Lost? Do I need to hold your hand to Hogwarts?" Harry glared at him. "Okay, you'll have to speak clearly, though, all right."

"I'm almost sixteen, Sirius."

Sirius grinned down at him. "I never would have noticed," he replied dryly. "Try not to get lost. I haven't had breakfast yet."

Rolling his eyes, Harry took some floo powder from the pot Sirius was offering him and stepped into the green flames.

"Dumbledore's Office, Hogwarts," he called out, clearly emphasising the words for his godfather's benefit. Before he flamed out, Harry could see the smirk on Sirius' face.

A moment later Harry tumbled out of the fireplace inside the Headmaster's office. As usual he almost landed on the floor but a pair of hands reached out to steady him. Harry gasped as he saw the state of the Headmaster's right hand.

"Sir, your hand - " he began to say as he drew himself upright, but Dumbledore cut him off.

"It is a most enthralling tale, I will admit, but that will be for another day. I'm rather curious to hear about this dream of yours. Ah, here comes your godfather."

The flames ignited and Harry saw the tall figure of his godfather come rushing out. Unlike Harry, Sirius did not almost fall.

"You made it I see," commented Sirius with a grin. Facing the Headmaster, his smile faded. "What's the matter with your hand, Albus?"

"As I was explaining to Harry here, it is a gripping tale that I hope to share one day with you, but alas, that is not today. Lemon drop?"

With a shrug, Sirius took one of the candies Dumbledore offered him, and then ushered his godson into a seat.

"Now," Dumbledore continued, sounding grave; the twinkle in his eyes had gone out as he appraised Harry from behind half-moon spectacles, "Harry, can you tell me about your dream?"

Harry gave a jerky head nod and began to recount his dream. Sirius, not having heard in full detail, paled considerably as he listened attentively at his godson's words. For both himself and Harry, Sirius placed a hand in the centre of Harry's back and began rubbing soothing circles.

Once Harry had finished, the younger man looked up at his godfather and smiled tentatively.

"Are you all right?" Sirius asked him, concerned.

It was one thing to have seen it, let alone having to recount it in detail.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. You?"

"Don't worry about me, kid. Your old godfather is just fine," Sirius added with a fond wink. Noticing that the Headmaster was unnaturally quiet, Sirius snapped his head up to gaze at the older man. He frowned. "What's the matter, Albus?"

Hearing Sirius' voice seemed to snap Dumbledore out of the trance he had found himself in. Both Harry and Sirius were staring at the Headmaster with concern.

"Ignore an old man," chuckled Dumbledore. "I am merely over thinking as usual."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"I do not think it's anything to worry about -" began Dumbledore, but Harry cut across him.

"Nothing to worry about?" he repeated incredulously. "I saw Voldemort ordering Lucius Malfoy to murder you!" He couldn't believe how lightly Dumbledore was taking this.

"Harry!" Sirius warned quietly, grasping his godson's hand in his own and giving him a gentle squeeze.

"I appreciate the concern but I do not believe that Lucius Malfoy will attempt it. Now, as I was saying, I don't think it is anything to worry about, but I do think it will be wise for Harry to resume studying Occlumency. These dreams are only going to get worse."

"I'm not having Snape teaching me," Harry blurted out at once, momentarily forgetting his concerns regarding Dumbledore's sanity.

"_Professor _Snape, Harry," Dumbledore corrected, his eyebrows raising. "And I think I have a solution to that, if you would be interested."

"Okay..."

"During the holidays, your godfather can teach you -"

Harry's head snapped up to look at his godfather. "But I thought you didn't know Occlumency."

"I learnt when I was younger because of my -" his lips thinned, "- parents. Though I haven't used it in a long time."

"A few refresher courses and you should have it down," Dumbledore told him, his blue eyes twinkling away. "As I was saying, you, Sirius, can teach Harry during the summers, and I can teach you during term. I would also like to begin teaching you a different type of lesson to what you are used to."

"Like what, Sir?"

"Something that will help you along the way."

Harry sighed. "To defeat Voldemort."

"Essentially, yes." Dumbledore smiled. "But we can discuss that at a later date."

Harry nodded. "Okay. Oh, and Sir? Hermione keeps bothering me about the O.W.L results. Do you know when they'll be arriving."

"Sometime in the next couple of days, I believe."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **This chapter was shorter than I would have liked but I am trying to make sure they'll be longer from now to everyone who reviewed, added me to their alerts and favourites. I was surprised at the reaction this received. I loved it. Hope you all liked this chapter. Review?


	3. Sorry!

First off, I have to say thank you a million times over to everyone who has reviewed, favourited or alerted this story. I love you all! You were amazing and really kept me motivated to write.

Unfortunately, I'm not continuing with this story. Someone can adopt it if they so wish, so PM me about that if you want to. I'm just not in a place to write fanfiction anymore. I hope you can all understand that.

Thanks so much everyone!

~ Emily


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